glad to know others have also a cupboard of doom
which sneers at me and wrath clouds the face
of my once upon a time bride’s groom
evidence of my laziness for all to see
where wrinkled clothes moan heaped as garbage
my silken saree screeches in mute agony
as the hooks of my bodice pierce tender skin
my graduation tie is wreated in knots
crumpled in a corner lies my new gown
for anything else it has no room
and every day I promise to tidy those shelves
but find excuses always not to in the end
impossible for me to find anyhing there
and any thought of a search gives me a scare
this garbage dumb, delight of an unemployed broom
and chore for the growling washing mahine
the heated iron also at it does frown
this is my cupboard of doom…